


The untold story of Bucky Barnes

by ellaelizabethmetcalfe



Category: Black Widow (Comics), Black Widow (Movie 2020), Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), Winter Soldier (Comics)
Genre: Bucky Barnes & Natasha Romanov Friendship, Captain America: The First Avenger, Captain America: The Winter Soldier, Hurt Bucky Barnes, Hydra (Marvel), Hydra Bucky Barnes, Marvel Universe, Other, Past Bucky Barnes/Natasha Romanov, Pre-Captain America: The Winter Soldier, Red Room (Marvel), Winter Soldier Bucky Barnes
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-08-14
Updated: 2020-09-02
Packaged: 2021-03-06 04:35:03
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,898
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25897540
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ellaelizabethmetcalfe/pseuds/ellaelizabethmetcalfe
Summary: James Buchanan Barnes. Bucky Barnes. The Winter Soldier. A man out of time, Bucky was forced to fight against his will for HYDRA, until he was found and saved by his best friend and comrade Steve Rogers, also known as Captain America. The story from 2014 onwards has been told, but what about the parts in the middle? What about Bucky’s life up until that point?This story will (try to) tell the life story of Bucky and try to depict what he went through during his years becoming the Winter Soldier in the MCU.
Comments: 2
Kudos: 7





	1. Chapter One - 1945

It was cold. At any other time, the scenery would’ve been picturesque. But at this moment in time, it was nothing short of a nightmare. The snow on landing on the fallen soldier’s body, freezing as it came into contact with the harsh, cold washes of the river. The white snow was broken up by the black spots in Bucky’s vision. He could feel the snow landing on his body, he could also see a man. He didn’t recognize him. He didn’t recognize anything. Not even himself.

Chapter One - 1945

There was no certainty in Bucky’s life. He didn’t know who he was, where he was, why he was there. The only things that remained the same were the dark walls he was confined to. He was confused. Why was he alive? Last he remembered, he was falling from a train, watching his best friend Steve grow further from him as he plummeted to the ground. He felt like a foreign object. He didn’t feel human. He had lost part of himself, literally and metaphorically. His left arm was gone. He knew he had lost it in the fall, but that did very little to calm his nerves. He was a man who always wanted to seem brave and proud but, at this moment in time, he felt small. He felt terrified. He didn’t know what was happening, but he knew in this moment he should be scared. There was no way he could’ve fallen from that train and survived, so he had deduced that even though he didn’t know who these people were, he should be scared for what they would do to him.

He was there for what felt like years, being given just enough food and water to keep him alive. He had barely slept; nightmares had plagued his only form of escape. He felt trapped. He wasn’t sure what year is was, but he knew he had been there a long time. He knew the guards by their voices now. He recognized every voice he heard, though he didn’t fully understand the language. He had figured it sounded like Russian, and he had picked up a couple of words just from listening to them, though he tried not to hold on to them. He wanted to keep a grip on his old life with Steve back home in Brooklyn. The familiarity of it was the only thing giving him hope. He had, once again, found himself daydreaming about his life back home, lost in his own thoughts when, out of the blue, he heard a new voice he didn’t recognize. He used his remaining strength to push his body up so he could try to see what was happening. There was a man who simply spoke:

“Get the soldier, we start now”.

He was pulled to his feet by a man who was a similar height to him. He began to panic, the last time someone had grabbed him and pushed him around like this he ended up wherever he was now. He started thrashing, trying to release himself from the guard’s clutches. “No! Please no” he yelled, using all his strength to try and push the guard off him. “нет. перестань двигаться, солдат.” (“No. Stop moving, soldier”). Fear sat steady in his eyes. He felt a small metal sensation on his back. “Шаг” (Move) the man yelled in his ear, sending Bucky’s ear drums into a frenzy. He was used to hearing yelling, the sound was frequent enough that it had become a new normal to him, but this close proximity between him and this guard was way out of his comfort zone. No one had been within 5 ft of him for a long time. The men working the warehouse where he guessed he was being held usually kept their distance, unless he somehow stepped out of line and they would use violence to ensure he wouldn’t act up again. The guard continued pushing him down the dimly lit corridor, every so often water would drip from the ceiling, landing on the dirty floor. The pipes lining the ceiling were making low grumbling sounds, also occasionally leaking water or steam. The two reached a door towards the end of the corridor. It was rusted around the edges and detailing, the only thing still intact was a keypad to the side of the door. The guard entered a code, which was closely followed by a clicking sound. The door was opened by another guard. The two had a brief discussion that Bucky didn’t understand. The two guards then grabbed him and began dragging him further into the room. “Please stop! What are you going to do to me?” Bucky pleaded. He didn’t want to die. He still had some hope in him that he would eventually manage to get out of wherever he was. He still had some hope he would eventually manage to get home. Suddenly, he heard a voice command “Stop”. The two guards stopped, though their grip on Bucky never slacked. “Bring the subject to the table” he heard the same voice demand. He realised it was the voice from earlier, the same man who said, “we start now”. He deduced that whatever the man had been talking about, whatever they were going to do to him, they were going to do it now. Bucky was exhausted. He didn’t have enough energy to fight back. He decided it would be best to accept his fate at this point. He started mentally preparing himself, trying to accept that he was going to die. He was never again going to see Steve or his family. The final thing he would see would be the dingy warehouse he was being held in and the unfamiliar faces of the men who were holding him there. He felt his body be pushed down onto a cold table. His remaining limbs and his torso were strapped to the table. He felt something sharp pierce his cold, rough skin. He could hear the clattering of metal instruments next to him, the machine around him beeping loudly. He could hear the mystery man talking to the guards. They sounded void of any emotion. As Bucky focused in on their voices, he realised they were getting quieter and quieter. He looked around and realised his tunnel of vision was closing in. Was this dying? His heart clenched as the world around him got quieter and darker. This was it. And he was okay with that.

A beep was ringing in the air from one of the various machines. The pipes were hissing, the lights buzzing. Bucky didn’t understand, surely he was meant to be dead. Slowly, he opened his eyes. They felt heavy, like he’d been asleep for years. As his eyes slowly opened and adjusted to the lights, he realised he was still on the table, he was still tied to the cold metal. He tried to move slightly, and it was then that he became aware of an unfamiliar sensation in his left arm. He looked over and raised his wrist. He was greeted by a metal hand. He looked at it in sheer horror. What had they done to him? His eyes traveled up the contraption as he continued making a fist, listening as the metal plates whirred as they moved. His eyes reached his shoulder, where the metal arm had been attached. Why were these people doing this to him? “Soldier, you’re awake”. That voice, he knew that voice. A man stepped out of the shadows and towards him. “Unstrap him, he isn’t a threat to us anymore” the man said. The two guards from earlier unstrapped him, allowing him to sit up. He looked over at his new arm, he felt both intrigued and disgusted by it. The man motioned to the guards, and they grabbed Bucky’s arms and began pulling him to another room. He was forced into a chair and pushed down to sit in it. A large metal clamp came down and attached to either side of his head. His wrists were attached to the arms of the chair. The guards positioned themselves near Bucky, ready in case he was to fight back. Bucky knew he wouldn’t, he knew he couldn’t. The man from earlier came in and stood in front of Bucky. “Hello, Soldier. My name is Zola-“, “What do you want from me?” Bucky interrupted. He felt the clamp on his head tighten. He cried out in anguish. “You will learn quickly, Soldier, that I don’t like to be interrupted. Allow this to be your first warning” Zola warned him. Bucky didn’t say anything. He felt the sweat running down his face, trailing his neck and reaching the collar of the shirt they had forced him into. “While you are here, you will no longer be known by your previous name. You are Prisoner #56898 right now, but soon you will soon be the world’s first Winter Soldier,” Zola took a step back, “You will be HYDRA’s greatest weapon, completing any and all tasks we set you. You will be under our command and our command only. A series of command words will be said which will force you to become The Winter Soldier at our command. In order for this to work, we can’t have any of your old memories clogging up your brain,” Zola looked over towards the guards, “begin the process” he commanded. Suddenly, Bucky felt surges of incomparable pain coursing through his body. He screamed in agony. He had never felt pain like this. He tried breaking out of the machine but couldn’t escape.” Stop, please stop!” he cried in anguish. It didn’t stop. He felt his body giving up. Everything begins to feel blank. Suddenly, the machine stops, though the pain lingers in his body. The room is silent until Zola steps in front of Bucky, holding a red book with a star on the front:

“Longing. Rusted. Furnace. Daybreak. Seventeen. Benign. Nine. Homecoming. One. Freight car.”

Bucky felt a switch in himself flip. It was like he stepped out of his body, he no longer had control. He could hear the guards talking behind him, only now he understood what they were saying. They were speaking Russian, and now he did too. The room went quiet, until Zola spoke up, now also speaking Russian. “ Soldier” he said, looking at Bucky, waiting in hopes that his experiment had gone to plan. Bucky looked at the man in front of him. He felt nothing. His mouth autonomously moved, and he spoke:

“Ready to comply”.


	2. Chapter 2 - I knew him

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> As Bucky is forced on yet another mission for HYDRA, will his mind be on task or will something nearly break his Winter Soldier facade?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Welcome to chapter two!! This one is kind of long but it definitely is more interesting. Hope you all enjoy!

His body ached. His skin littered with bruises and scars, leaving with permanent reminders of the atrocities he had committed. Though a part of his brain begged the question if it was actually him doing this. He knew it was his body, and he remembered every single person who lost their lives at his hands, but he never had any kind of control over himself. He felt like an animal, under the control of his owner being told what to do, where to go and if he did anything not instructed to him, he would be reprimanded. He wasn’t sure what year it was, if his kill count was anything to go off it had been decades since he woke up in his old cell. The cell where this nightmare had begun. At this point, he would’ve done anything to have that cell back. He no longer had his own cell, he didn’t even have a room. The men, who he had figured worked for an organization called HYDRA, would lock him in a cryofreeze until he was needed for ‘work’. They would only unfreeze him for training and his jobs he was assigned, otherwise he was either in the freezer or in the mind control machine. Both were painful, but in all honesty that’s all he knew, all he could truly remember, it was all he was allowed.

“Longing. Rusted. Furnace. Daybreak. Seventeen. Benign. Nine. Homecoming. One. Freight car.” The guard recited the ten command words that were said every time Bucky was strapped to the chair. The pain from the device was crippling, it was a pain he knew he’d never get used to. Suddenly, everything went numb. The only sound he could hear was white noise, until the guard spoke up:

“Ready to comply, soldier?” The guards emotionless eyes met Bucky’s. “ Ready to comply” replied Bucky. The guard placed the book back in its holder. God, Bucky hated that book. The guard then reached over the rusted side table and held up a file. Bucky’s next mission. “Your next mission will be Alfred Fritz. He is a German scientist that we need dead. Make it clean and quick, leave no trace behind, you’ll will be deployed tonight and expected back in two days, this gives you enough time to lie low before coming back so we decrease the risk being tracked. You will spend today training until 2200 hours, then you will be taken to the landing strip for transportation. Is this understood, Soldier?”

“Yes” replied Bucky.

Thudding echoed through the empty room that was being used as Bucky’s gym. He stood in the center of the room, alone, rhythmically punching the bag that was hanging from the ceiling. His eyes narrowed, his face emotionless. The sweat forming on his hairline was dripping down his face, gently contouring his nose and cheekbones before running down to his jawline, then finally dripping to the floor. He heard the door behind him creak open, the bottom of the door scratching the floor as it moved. “Soldier, it is time to leave.” He heard a voice behind him say. He delivered one final blow to the punching bag, sending it soaring across the room, sand spilling out as it hit the floor. He stood for a moment, breathing heavily, before turning and walking out the door, the guard close on his heels. He followed the corridor perfectly, he had taken this route enough times to know it by heart know. Every time they wiped his memory, this is one of the only ones that stuck with him, it was probably down to muscle memory more than his actual memory. His brain was now just a hazed fog, the only things taking up space were his instructions for whatever mission he was working that week and some very faint memories that his handlers had very clearly tried to suppress. He didn’t know what he was remembering, all he could recall was being somewhere white and moving fast. To him, at this point, the memories meant nothing, and so he often ignored them. But at random points in his life, they would pop into his head, forcing him to think about them however, he was usually able to push them to the back of his mind and keep the current mission as his top priority. He didn’t have to do that for this mission, his mind was completely empty apart from his handlers instructions he had been told just hours earlier. He stood facing the large iron door, feeling the cold draught on his back. The guard stood with him stood behind him, placing a black bag over his head. It was their way of ensuring Bucky didn’t know where his was, so if he ever tried to escape he wouldn’t know where he was and therefore would be easier to catch and ‘deal with’. The bag was placed over his head and tightened slightly around his neck. He heard some muttering behind him then felt a strong hand grip each of his arms and pull him forward slightly. He moved forward robotically, blindly walking to his transport. The three walked for a couple minutes, before they stopped. Bucky heard a car start up and a door open. “Get in the car, Soldier”. Bucky’s arms were released as he stepped up into the car. He figured by its height and size, it must’ve been a big car, maybe a 4x4. He felt the car start driving almost immediately as a guard leant forward and handcuffed his wrists and ankles to the seat. After driving for about 15 minutes, a guard reached over and pulled the bag off Bucky’s head, allowing him to finally see. He realised he was actually in some kind of van, there were no windows, the only light coming from small lights under the seats. He knew just by the size of the vehicle that they would be there for a while. He knew the drill by now, don’t speak unless spoken to and keep your eyes forward, and that’s exactly what he did.

Bucky’s sniper was assembled on the edge of the roof he had chosen as his look out spot. He was knelt down, his eye looking down the scope, watching the partygoers pouring in and out of the fundraiser happening on the ground below him. He didn’t know what the fundraiser was for, in all honesty he didn’t care, he was there to do a job then go back to base. He always attended these missions alone, the only people nearby that he knew being his handlers and they weren’t there to help, they were there to make sure he didn’t try to make a run for it. He wasn’t sure why he hadn’t tried to run yet; he had been trained as an assassin for god knows how long, surely, he had he skills to escape and evade capture. But he never did. There was something that always stopped him. He always put it down to being afraid of being caught, but deep down he knew it was fear of being alone. As awful as his current situation was, he was deathly afraid of being alone and knew that as long as he was being held wherever he was being held, there would always be people there around him, even if he only feelings they had towards each other was some form of hatred.

His eyes scanned the crowd of people, watching their every move before landing on his target: Alfred Fritz. The man was an eccentric man, known for his bright coloured clothes and distinctive facial hair. Bucky watched the man greeting another couple at the party, raising his arms in the air and cheering before kissing them each on both cheeks. He seemed like a nice guy, but Bucky didn’t care, his mission wasn’t to watch the guy and come up with a dating profile for him, it was to kill then leave. He knew he had to wait until Fritz was alone before he took his shot, hitting a civilian was not allowed under any circumstances, out of fear that his identity and his handler’s identities could be exposed and the organisation he was currently being held by could be reduced to nothing more than a distant memory and a “reason for arrest” on the police reports of dozens of criminals. His eyes never left the scientist, watching as he drifted through the party, meeting and greeting the other high-class guests, sipping his champagne. Fritz continued walking through the party, before passing in front of a large banner that was hanging from the ceiling. Bucky couldn’t see the face of the figure on the billboard, but while following Fritz his eyes caught sight of the uniform. The red, white and blue, the circular shield, it all felt very familiar to him. He allowed his eyeline to divert from Fritz and travel up the poster, finally getting sight of the man on the poster. Bucky looked at the soldier’s face in confusion. He felt a sense of familiarity looking at the man on the poster. He knew him, he wasn’t sure how, but he knew him. He zoomed out slightly, increasing his field of vision. He could now see the poster in its entirety. Above the man there was a title, he figured it was to describe the man. The name was short and simple yet seemed to fit the man perfectly.

“Captain America?” Bucky read out loud to himself, and with saying that, he felt a very feeling of recognition rush over him. He knew that name, he knew this guy. He didn’t know how, but he knew that he knew him. At this realisation, Bucky jumped back, his heart racing and his body beginning to sweat. As he jumped back, his finger accidently hit the trigger, sending a bullet flying straight through the heart of the Captain America poster. Panic ensued below him, the socialites screaming and running for their lives, wondering where the mystery bullet had come from. Police had begun swarming the area, trying their hardest to get the civilians out before another shot was fired. Bucky felt panic rise in his chest. He had failed his mission. He had failed his first mission. He had never failed a mission before, he didn’t know what they would do to him, would they kill him? He still had an urge to pick up his gun and find Fritz and finish the job but before he could, he felt someone pull him back by his shirt before gripping his neck. It was one of his handlers.

“You messed up big time” the man said. Bucky could feel his Winter Soldier instincts kicking in, and he began fighting back. He swung his fist straight at the man’s face, breaking several of his bones instantly. The man dropped to the floor, lying unconscious as Bucky simply stepped over him. He didn’t know where he intended on going but he knew he had to get away from here. Suddenly, he felt something hit the back of his neck. He reached his hand up, pulling out whatever had hit his neck. He realised it was a tranquilizer dart; he wasn’t sure where it had been fired from, but he knew he had to get to cover before another was shot. He started to walk forward but after a couple of steps, realised that his legs were beginning to go numb. He tried to push through and carry on walking, but his body suddenly felt too heavy to move, and he crumpled to the ground, landing next to the agent he had knocked out moments before. His eyes started to feel heavy, and he fought as hard as he could before finally allowing his eyes to shut as he slowly lost consciousness, his mind never leaving the poster.

When Bucky woke up, he was strapped to the mind control machine, the straps definitely tighter than they usually were. He felt groggy and disorientated, he wasn’t sure what was going on. He started to think about the night’s events, trying to track what happened so he could put together some kind of timeline. He remembered following Fritz with his sniper, watching him walk across the room until he crossed in front of the poster. The poster. Captain America. The familiarity came back, Bucky knew that name, he knew the face. He felt this sense of comfort looking at the poster, like he and Captain America had been friends or something. His thoughts were interrupted by the door to the room swinging open, slamming against the wall, causing dust and debris to fall from the damaged ceiling. His main handler stormed across the room, before gripping Bucky’s shirt with one hand and punching him across the face with the other.

“You nearly jeopardized the entire mission, Soldier.” His handler angrily spat; his eyes full of a fury Bucky had never seen. “What the hell kind of stunt was that?” Normally, Bucky would know better than to answer back but, in this instant,, his mouth moved faster than his brain.

“I knew him” He said under his breath.

His handler cynically chuckled to himself before moving over to the control panel for the machine. “Clearly, we haven’t been harsh enough here” his hand moved to the dial that increased the power of the machine and increased it to maximum power. “You are a killing machine, nothing more, Soldier. Memories are a liability” he said as he activated the machine, sending a disgustingly painful shock throughout Bucky’s body. He screamed in agony, but the mouth guard that had been shoved in his mouth muffling the sound. The shocks ended for a moment, luring Bucky into a false sense of security before starting up again. The cycle continued for a matter of minutes before ending. Bucky’s mind, once again, was now empty. He sat, breathing heavily, trying to recover from what had just happened. His handler was now stood in front of him, looking at him with a sinister smile on his face. He motioned for the guards to move and surround Bucky.

“Put him in the Cryostasis Chamber, and leave him there until further notice”. Immediately after the sentence was ended, the guards moved towards Bucky, grabbing his weak body and dragging it to the chamber. They practically threw his body into the chamber, leaving him to freeze. Bucky was alone, no one around him and no thoughts in his head. And, for the first time in a long time, he was terrified.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, we got a minor Steve introduction. That's pretty much all we'll have from Steve, since he doesn't really appear in Bucky's story again until TWS, however I might include him some more in the coming chapters. thank you for reading :)


	3. The Starks

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Welcome to chapter three! In this chapter we start getting more into some of the "highly important" jobs Bucky was assigned to do. Hope you enjoy!

Decades had passed, and Bucky’s life continued to be a repetitive mess. At this point, he must’ve been nearing over 100 lives taken at his hands, but he didn’t feel guilty. He didn’t feel anything, he wasn’t allowed to. He spent days on end in the chamber, only being brought out to do his handler’s dirty work. Though he wasn’t allowed to feel anything, he remembered every assassination, every execution, he remembered them all clearly. He remembered the sounds of fear as his recipients screamed for their lives, begging him not to kill them. He remembered the feeling of the blood splattering on his face, coating his hands like a dye, dripping off his fingers and hitting the floor. He remembered the where, the when, the how. But he never knew the why. He never knew why he was being sent to kill these people, he didn’t know if he was ever told a reason, he was just told to kill and so he did. No refusal, no hesitation. One job, then back in the chamber. It was the same every time. Except this time.

  
The guards marched down the corridor, their boots trekking mud and snow onto the concrete floors, mixing with the water that had splashed from the ceiling pipes. Their faces carried an expression that didn’t seem to have any matching adjectives. It was a strange combination of angry, determined and excited. One guard was carrying a file, the front adorned with paper clips, staples and post it notes, each individually covered with notes written in Russian. They walked past various rooms, each holding their own story, their own prisoner, their own trauma. However, what lay behind those doors wasn’t enough for this mission. The guards continued on, until they reached the door with the keypad. They entered immediately, greeting the other soldiers with a simple “hello”. They reached a small table towards the back of the room and stood next to it was a man, who was known as the commander. He didn’t say anything as they approached the table. The guards haphazardly threw the folder on the table. The Commander opened the folder, carefully reading each line. He opened to a page that had two pictures paperclipped to the top corner. He lifted the pictures up, reading the writing that lay beneath them. The guards stood by him, watching expectantly, waiting for their orders. The Commander slowly shut the folder and placed it back on the table.

  
“Get him” the Commander ordered, “He is the best person for this mission”.

  
Bucky’s eyes slowly opened. Before they had opened completely, he felt his cold, stiff body being dragged from the chamber. His arms were being held as he was dragged out of the room. He didn’t know how far they had travelled before he was being thrown into the mind control machine. He felt the clamps held his body to the chair and a mouthguard forcefully shove into his mouth. Then he felt the pain. The pain that he had been subject to so many times before now, yet it never seems to get even the slightest bit more bearable. His vocal chords felt raw from screaming so much. He wasn’t sure how he was still managing to talk, he thought that by now he for sure would’ve lost that ability, yet every time he was pushed into a new mission, he managed to respond to any orders given with ease. Well, with ease meaning he could still talk, his ability to make decisions didn’t actually work once he was forced behind a gun into the open world. After a few minutes of anguish, the shocks ended, and the Commander appeared in front of him. He was holding the book.

  
“Longing. Rusted. Furnace. Daybreak. Seventeen. Benign. Nine. Homecoming. One. Freight car.”

  
His eyes bore into Bucky’s skull, staring in a way that would’ve been intimidating had Bucky actually been there, but he wasn’t. In his place sat The Winter Soldier, an emotionless robot, waiting to hear who would die at his hands next.

  
“Ready to comply, Soldier?” Commander asked.

  
“Ready to comply.” Bucky confirmed.

  
“Your next mission is a double hit and an important one at that” the Commander told him, “You will kill the Starks, Howard and Maria. We need him to die in particular, but make sure she goes as well. Then, you are to go to the trunk of the car and retrieve the contents and bring them back to the checkpoint. Is this understood?”

  
Bucky nodded, his eyes never leaving the Commanders.

  
“You will take the motorcycle and follow their car. Make it look like a car crash, and make sure the job is done. There is a camera about 3 miles up the road, you must make their car crash so it can be seen from the camera. We will be watching you.” The Commander listed each order like it was another item on a grocery list.

  
Commander then moved to the side, two guards coming in from either side and approaching Bucky. He rose from his seat, and walked with the guards. They left the room and headed towards the door. Bucky was one again blindfolded and hauled into the SUV to be taken to the meeting point. He felt the hilly terrain slowly get more level and even as they drove away from the location Bucky had named as “Home”. He knew in his heart this place was never and could never be his home, but it was the only concept that he could think to describe that place other than “Hell”. However, its name didn’t matter, there was no escape and Bucky knew he would have to get used to that.

The car drove on for a couple of miles before pulling to a stop. The bag was pulled off Bucky’s head and he was forced out of the SUV. He stood as his motorcycle was also pulled out and placed on the ground next to him. He mounted the bike and started the engine. He looked at the guards who gave him a nod before setting off. He rode through the night, the cold, December air hitting his face and running through his hair. It was only early in the evening, but the cold nip in the air wasn’t something that was easily ignored. After riding for a few minutes, he caught sight of a car up ahead. He sped up slightly and read the license plate, seeing it matched up with the car he was meant to be tailing. He leveled his speed, trying to keep it constant so he didn’t arouse any suspicion. He followed it for a few miles before he heard a voice in his comms;

“Camera coming up on the left in exactly one mile. Make it quick, Soldier.”

Bucky continued behind the car, his brain meticulously counting and waiting for the time to make the shot. His hand reached down to his holster and pulled out his gun. He raised his arm and shot, the bullet flying past the car. He watched as the driver swerved the car and drove headfirst into a tree at the side of the road, right where Bucky was hoping. He parked his motorcycle behind the car and climbed off it. The driver side door swung open and Howard crawled out, his white hair and expensive suit stained with blood that was dripping from a laceration that had been made on his head. Bucky watched as the man crawled towards him, his body trembling as he slowly grew weaker.

“Help my wife” he begged, “Please. Help”.

Bucky began walking over to him. He grabbed a fistful of the Howard’s hair and hauled his head upwards. The two locked eyes, Bucky’s filled with anger and Howard’s filled with terror. As their eyes met, the terror in Howard’s eyes was replaced with a look of recognition and betrayal, yet also a glint of uncertaincy.

“Sergeant Barnes?” Howard asked shakily.

Bucky heard Maria scream for her husband, but her screams did nothing to calm Bucky. He began relentlessly punching Howard in the face, the sound of him breathing slowly being replaced with the sound of his bones breaking and his head continuously hitting the car door. Bucky then threw him to the ground, watching as his body dropped onto the road. Howard’s breathing had ceased at this point, and now knowing he was definitely dead, Bucky picked him up by his shirt collar and dragged him back to the car. He placed him back into the driver’s seat, lying his head on the steering wheel so the narrative of this being a car accident would look more believable. He walked around to the other side of the car, the only sounds in the area that could be heard was the crackling of the car fire and the occasional whimper from Maria. He stopped when he reached Maria’s door. His arm reached in and he gripped her neck, strangling her. He looked straight ahead, paying no attention to her desperate attempts to get his hand off her neck as she began to choke. He stayed like this until he felt her body completely relax, and her pulse become nonexistent. After letting her go, he walked towards the security camera that was hidden amongst the trees. He stared up at it, a way for him to let HYDRA know his mission was complete. He then raised his gun and shot the camera out, killing the feed. He knew the final part of his mission would require absolutely no one to know apart from those who needed to. He quickly moved back to the now destroyed car and popped the trunk. In there, he saw a case that stuck out among the normal other contents of the trunk. He picked it up and carried it back over to his motorcycle. He swung his leg over it, tightly attaching the case to the bike before starting the engine. He took one last look around to check there were no more witnesses, then revved the engine and sped off down the road, leaving a trail of destruction and murder in his wake.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading! I hope you all enjoyed and I hope you're enjoying the story so far. Let me know if there's anything I can do to make the story better :)

**Author's Note:**

> Hi! Hope you enjoyed chapter one :) this is my first time writing anything like this so I hope I did a good job. I usually write scripts/short movies but I saw a tiktok saying this story should've been told by Marvel so I decided to do it myself :) thank you for reading <3


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